


Office Hours

by hydrangeyang



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, F/M, Hospitals, One Shot, Short One Shot, office life, y/n, yangyang is younger than you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangeyang/pseuds/hydrangeyang
Summary: In which you are dating the young freelancer Liu Yangyang and things get complicated.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Office Hours

“i am in my car, right behind your office.”

and so you had to run, chasing your limited time, having to lie to your boss (“I need to call home, my mom has something to say”). your high heels were 10 centimetres tall, but you still run. as fast as you can.

what is he doing right there? in your office hours? why?

“you look like a hot mess,” he greeted you with a smile once you arrived at the location he told you. you looked at him in disbelief. “I got panicked! I did not expect you to come! at this hour!”

“did you panic or did you feel excited?” he said, teasingly, right before he kissed your right cheek.

yangyang is a freelancer. he will never get your concept of time (“time is money”), nor the work ethics applicable in your office. he is a free soul doing the job he love and getting paid for it. and it is his free soul that lured you into his mysterious yet jolly life.

“what are you doing here?” you asked the million dollar question.

“I missed you. do I need a better reason?”

“YES? I was in the middle of working on something!” you snapped, out of your own control.

his facial expression changed, the smile faded. “can’t you just appreciate the fact that I tried surprising you?” he said with a hint of disappointment in his tone. 

he is always like this. sometimes you think that it’s the age difference that induced the unexpected (and unwanted) arguments between the both of you, due to the difference of maturity of thinking. sometimes you think that it’s the background and upbringing difference.

you could not answer.

“well,” he said, as he walked back to the driver seat of his white SUV. “if you don’t want me here, I’m leaving.”

“wait! im sorry, i-“

***  
you rarely have arguments with him, but once you do, it’s similar to the previous ones. yangyang trying to be romantic. you failing to appreciate his love language. the two of you not speaking for days.

“it’s okay, he will eventually understand and apologize.” a married friend told you. but those words do not comfort you at all. you still think of him every available second, thinking of messaging him, thinking of apologizing and the right words you will use. 

days without speaking to him feel a little bit different. you feel powerless. nothing tastes good in your mouth. you feel like bursting into tears, even in the middle of an important meeting. and this time, all that are complimented with your first day of period.

“do you want to have lunch with us?” a friend asked you. you told them you will be there in a minute.

you are done with your draft, and walked to the elevator taking you to the basement, where the canteen is located. you entered, pressed the “B” button, and waited.

three seconds later, your sight darkened. the elevator door opened, and a janitor found you laying down unconscious.

***  
you woke up not remembering anything but your hunger. and you felt thirsty too. 

it was a tiny curtained room in a hospital. a friend took you there right after you created a little crowd outside of the elevator you took. your sight caught the wall clock showing the time; 8 P.M., three hours late after the end of your office hour. 

you called the doctor, and the nurse. your voice seemed too weak. no response. 

but then you heard a set of hurried footsteps. too hurried. and you saw yangyang opening the curtain covering your bedspace in that huge emergency room of the hospital. he looked like a mess, carrying a plastic bag consisting of a small box smelling like your favorite food from the dumpling restaurant you two always go to every weekend.

you rise up and look at him, standing right in front of your bed.

“how long have you been here?” you asked, answered with a deep, loving, sudden hug. and that’s when you realized: it is the seventh day since the two of you talked for the last time; that small argument the two of you had behind your office. and you burst into tears.

“why do you eat so recklessly? why did you not take breakfast? how long have you not slept? do you know how everyone was worried?” you heard his voice shook, trying to hold an ugly crying back.

without letting him go, you apologized for being so harsh the other day. for not appreciating him and his love language. for acting like you did not want him there, or at all. for hurting him. 

he let you go, and kissed you on the lips, deeply. like there would be no tomorrow. 

there were no express acceptance of apology, but you know that things are getting back together, just like how they used to. he will text you good night again, ask how you do again, listen to your daily rants and ask you out for dinner every weekend again. and you feel relieved.


End file.
